


X: Xanthous

by brokxnharry



Series: Teen Wolf A-Z Challenge (with songs) [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Attempt at Humor, Episode: s02e11 Battlefield, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Love Confessions, M/M, Married Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Mentioned Gerard Argent, Multi, Physical Abuse, Protective Stiles, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 16:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokxnharry/pseuds/brokxnharry
Summary: It's their high-school reunion night, everyone is almost ready to have a good time. Almost. Then there's crying and yelling and fighting and shoving and spraying and- a baby. And then the night becomes really crazy, when Derek tells Stiles he loves him.





	X: Xanthous

**Author's Note:**

> Song: 1000X - Jarryd James ft. Broods

_" We're almost done here. Kira has been crying for the past hour because she was promised that the dress would slim her down, but her 8-months-pregnant belly is keeping that from happening. 8 months, Lydia. 8 months."_

_" She's hormonal and in pain. Take your blatant sexism down a notch."_

_" Now, that's just-"_

_" I don't think I'm going to be able to make it tonight. You have fun. Take lots of pictures to show me later."_

_" It's our high school reunion, Lydia. You're coming."_

_" I can't. Something came up."_

_" What came up?"_

_" A bit of privacy between friends is always healthy, Stiles. You don't have to know **everything** about me."_

_" So, basically, you can't come up with an excuse? You're not even going to give it a try, just to humor me?"_

_" Go fetch your amusement somewhere else, I've got better things to do with my life. Don't drink and drive, use protection, stay away from the punch, yada yada yada."_

_" Why? Did you make that one too?"_

Stiles frowned down at his phone, like it'd give him all the answers.

" Stiles?" Derek was nearby, his hand brushing against Stiles, barely touching, but so steady, so willing. He did that sometimes now. He could do that, now that he and Stiles had agreed that they wanted more, of each other, of this thing between them, of life. They just wanted **_more_**.

" Something is wrong with Lydia." Derek frowned, moved around Stiles, trying to capture his eyes.

" What do you mean?"

" She isn't coming. She's been talking about this thing for so long, she wouldn't just **_miss it_**. She stopped answering her texts too. This whole thing just feels off, Derek. I don't like it." Derek nodded, knowing better than to doubt Stiles' gut feeling, than to doubt Stiles at all.

" So, what do you want to do? Want to head to her house, check up on her, before the party?"

" We're already running late, though."

" We can do it after, if you think it can wait."

" But, what if it can't?" Derek rolled his eyes, fond and knowing and not nearly as irritated as he should have been.

" You make the call. It's your party anyway, not mine."

" You're my plus one, so technically, you get a vote too." Derek shook his head when he felt his lips curving into a grin, his heart reacting to Stiles like time hadn't passed at all. And it almost felt like it hadn't, like they were both still young and uncertain and stubborn to a fault.

" Go, talk to your friends, see what they want to do, and I'll be here."

" Wait, we haven't heard Kira cry in maybe fifteen minutes. And if Kira isn't crying, then, she's silently fuming, and that's **_worse_**. She's scary." Derek snorted, giving Stiles an encouraging shove, and watching as he took loud steps towards Scott's room, to alert them of his approach.

Less than ten minutes later, Stiles and Scott were helping Kira down the stairs, Scott's eyes sparkling with love and fascination and disbelief. Derek wondered if his eyes did that too, when Stiles was resting against his side, warm and familiar and grounding. Derek had always struggled with the concept of **_being_** , of existing, but never when it came to Stiles. It was the easiest thing in the world, being with him. It made sense. They made sense.

" You look great, Kira." Derek whispered, feeling Stiles' fingers threading between his, tangling, fitting in all the empty spaces.

" Really?" Kira pushed her dress down, ran a hand through the length of her hair. Scott planted another kiss to her cheek, still looking at her, like he couldn't quite believe she was there.

" Definitely. You make it look easy." And she did. She was pregnant, teaching at school, while working on her Master's degree, **_and_** being a badass kitsune when needed. She saved their asses quite a few times, and those were only during the months of her pregnancy. She was a force, everyone knew that. She just started doubting it, when she started doubting everything else, but she knew. She had to have known.

" Thanks, Derek." Gratitude shone in her eyes, like she appreciated the reminder. He nodded, and so did she, and that was that.

" Did you tell them? About Lydia?"

" Yeah, we have two cars anyway, so they'll pick Malia up and head over to the reunion, and we'll go check on Lydia, and catch up." Derek nodded, taking the keys to his car, waving goodbye to Scott and Kira, before starting to drive towards Lydia's house.

Stiles was mostly silent during the drive, only speaking about Isaac coming back for this, and staying with Melissa, since her house was mostly empty, now that Scott and Kira had gotten their own place. Derek hadn't seen Isaac since he'd went away with Chris, he never got the chance to apologize, for kicking him out the way he had, for turning him at the first place and then seemingly turning against him, for everything really. Maybe now, he would be able to do it, to give Isaac some kind of closure, some peace of mind to help him move on.

Stiles knocked on the door, put his hands into his pockets, as he waited. He was biting down on his lips, so close to drawing blood. Derek was almost moving his hand, almost touching against his lips to release them, when the door slowly opened. Lydia stood there, bloody and disheveled, with an icepack against her eye, her hair looking all made-up, her nails painted too. It looked like she genuinely cared for this party, was prepared to attend it, but then, the world crashed and burned around her.

" What the hell? Lydia, you're hurt." Stiles reached an involuntary hand, touched Lydia's busted lip, and tried not to dwell on the slight wince she gave.

" Now is not a good time, Stiles. Go to the reunion, I'm okay, I'll call you later." Lydia tried to smile, but Derek heard her thundering heartbeat, smelled the ache and the misery, she so desperately wanted to mask.

" I'm not going anywhere. Who did this to you? What happened?" Stiles was tucking a loose strand of hair behind Lydia's ear, cataloguing all the discoloring in her pale skin, staring at the end of the bloody trail, trying to trace it back to where it all started.

" Stiles," Derek was suddenly urgent, as it all clicked into place for him. His face fell, right as Lydia's did too.

" Derek, look at her,"

" Stiles."

" What? What is it?"

" There's a second heartbeat nearby. I- this isn’t Lydia's car, parked in the driveway. I- you- maybe you should take her to the car, wait there."

" Derek, wh-" Stiles looked at Derek, then, at the  unfamiliar parked car, that wasn't so unfamiliar, because it'd picked Lydia up before, multiple times. Suddenly, all at once, Stiles could remember torn knuckles, and scratched knees, and bruises that kind of looked like hickeys but not. He could remember Lydia's voice, high and forced, as it blamed it on clumsiness or Banshee activity or a stupid accident in boxing class.

" No. Lydia, no. He did this? How-" He felt so.. stupid, so naïve, for not seeing it sooner, for missing the dullness in her, the dimming of her spirit. He hated himself for not asking enough questions or not asking the right ones or just, not doing enough, letting this happen to one of the people he cared for the most. The open hurt in Stiles' suspiciously wet eyes, was something Derek would never be able to shake.

" Where is he?" Stiles groaned out, his hurt reforming into something bitter and vengeful.

" Stiles, no, you can’t," Lydia was frantic, too tired to grasp at the control she was losing over almost everything, " I don't want him to hurt you too. Please, just. Derek, tell him, he can't. He **_can't_**."

" Lydia, I swear to God," She was crying, looking at Derek with sad, pleading, eyes. But Stiles was too far gone, refusing to spare her a single glance, because he knew he'd break. And he couldn't afford to, because she looked so apart, and he had to do **_something_**.

" Lydia," Derek was careful, as he put his hand to her shoulder, stunned by all the clashing kinds of pain inside her.

" He just wants to help. I know you're scared, and I know you want to protect him, and,"

" And you. I want to protect all of you. This isn't your problem." Derek's breath hitched at the realization that she was his friend too. That she cared for him enough to actively want to keep him safe. And he cared about her too. She wasn't just Stiles' close friend, no, she was pack. She was family.

" We want to protect you too. Wh- what's happening to you, is wrong. It's fucked up. You shouldn't have to live like this. Do you get that?" Something like an agonized cry fell past her lips when she tried to breathe. She nodded, as shaky as everything else about her was.

" I know. I- I know, but,"

" You're not alone in this, Lydia. You have people who love you, would do anything to keep you safe, would never let something like this happen to you again. Just, trust us. Let us help." Her legs folded beneath her, before she could get the words out. Stiles fell with her, catching her, just before she crashed. He wrapped his arms around her, holding all her pieces together, keeping her from coming any further apart. He eased her into the first chair he found, patting her back reassuringly, until Derek returned with a glass of water from the kitchen, holding it to her mouth, because her hands couldn't quite form a grip.

" Where is he, Lydia?"

" At the back office, I think." Stiles nodded, starting to walk past them, but Derek caught his arm, stopping him.

" Where do you think you're going?"

" To talk to him. Beat his sorry ass up. We'll see how it goes, I'll just kind of wing it."

" Yeah, no, that's not happening."

" I'm not letting him get away with this."

" I didn't say he will. I'll go."

" Why the hell do you get to go and I don't?"

The words died on their tongues, when Kyle –Lydia's boyfriend of two years- walked into the living room. Derek released Stiles' arm, inching closer to Lydia, almost completely hiding her behind his broad back.

" Stiles, Derek, hey, what are you doing here?" Kyle tried to remain casual, sparing a look at Lydia, but Derek was blocking her away.

" Lydia, go get ready please. They're waiting for us at reunion." Stiles spoke, keeping his eyes on Kyle, searching for signs that he should have seen earlier.

" Stiles,"

" Please. Just, go to your room. We'll wait here." Derek nodded, when she looked at him for help. He guided her towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms, smiling with what he hoped was reassurance, comfort. She had to look away, before she started crying again.

Stiles waited to hear the click of her door closing, before, " What do you think you're doing, Kyle? What the hell is this?" Kyle sighed, shook his head, his features turning sour.

" I know it looks bad, but,"

" No, no, it doesn't look bad, it **_is_** bad. It's fucking unacceptable, is what it is."

" Unacceptable? I don't have to answer to you, Stiles. You're not her father. She's my girlfriend, this is my house, and I'll deal with her whichever way I see fit." Derek could almost see the fury clenching all Stiles' muscles, turning his open palms into fists. He breathed it, and it smelled of rage, of something so close to loathing, if Stiles was even capable of something this horrid.

" This is **_her_** house, buddy, not yours. This is all hers. She could take it away whenever she feels like it. The only reason she didn't, is probably because she still thinks there's something good about you, that- that you'll change, or stop doing this shit, every time she pisses you off a little."  

" You don't know what happens behind closed doors. You don't know me. Your friend isn't a saint. Hell, none of you are, no wonder she's always acting up."

" What's that supposed to mean?" Stiles swallowed. Derek could feel the sourness of the aftertaste of all the words he was trying to keep down, to bite around.

" It means you're a fucking mess, oh my God, the issues on you people. With the failed vet getting his electricity-sucking wife pregnant, and the stupid coyote trying so hard to act like a functioning human being when it's always going to come down to animalistic instincts with her. And don't even get me started on whatever the hell this is," Kyle pointed a disgusted finger between Stiles and Derek, they both frowned, offended and absolutely **_livid_**.  

" Who even are you, huh? Living in a burned house in the middle of the woods, with everyone you've ever known either dead, or as fucked up as the rest of them, I never wanted her to be friends with you. I **_hate_** what you're turning her into. I hate the person she is when you're there, but I don't say anything, because you've been in her life longer, and all that, but come **_on_** , you're preaching about a bit of rough play? Your dad probably killed your mum and has been drinking ever since so that no one asks him about it, who the hell-"

" You should **_not_** have said that," Derek hissed under his breath. Stiles threw himself onto Kyle, as they both tumbled to the ground, throwing kicks and punches and yelling things that didn't really sound like words.

Derek tried to tug at Stiles several times, but he was almost knotted around Kyle's limbs, unwilling to break free quite yet. So, Derek shifted, roared, circled his arms around Stiles' stomach, and carried him off Kyle, like a newborn baby. Once Stiles was put down to his feet, he managed to shove at Kyle, before Derek's figure was there, a barrier between the two of them.

" Get the hell out of here."

" It's not your fucking house!"

" You're right, it's mine." Lydia walked out of her bedroom, wearing a kind of greenish-yellow puffed out dress, blood no longer dripping down her chin, but her eye was almost closed shut by the forming bruise around it. Her lip painted red, the cut across it, a darker shade. Scratches and bruises littered the rest of her face, like she hadn't tried to cover them up at all. Stiles felt a surge of pride, despite the heartache floating around his chest.

" Pack your things and leave, Kyle. I want nothing to do with you."

" Babe, you don't mean that," Kyle was shaking his head, inching closer to her, she stumbled around her legs, retrieving, without really meaning to.

" I love you, okay? I'm sorry. I was just angry, and," Lydia's breath cracked. Stiles was already moving towards her, stepping in, when she stuck some sort of spray out, right in front of Kyle's face.

" I wouldn't chance it if I were you. But, it's up to you if you want to try me." Kyle furrowed his eyebrows, contemplative, but then, he was moving in again, laughing out her name, like it was all a joke to him. So, she sprayed him, and when he started falling, she let her hand drop with him, spraying him some more.

" Holy shit," Stiles was laughing, tilting his head towards Derek, as if to ask him if he was seeing this too. He was, and it was probably the most exhilarating thing he'd ever seen.

" I can scream your fucking head off too, you asshole." Lydia gave a kick to Kyle's crumbled figure, stepping back before she went too far, before she turned into him. Derek stepped in, collected him, and walked towards the front door.

Lydia tried to breathe, run her fingers through her hair, but that spray was still held there, a protective shield. She threw it away, disgusted. She looked up, when she felt a hand to her shoulder. A choked whimper sounded, when she tried to call Stiles' name, to apologize, or tell him that they needed to get going, or just, something. Anything that wasn't this. Stiles only needed to pull once, until she was collapsing into his arms, crying and crying, like a dam had broken inside her, and she was going under. The flood was going to sink them all.

" It's okay, you're okay, Lydia. You're safe."

They ended up huddled on the couch, Lydia clinging to Stiles' shirt, poking three holes through the fabric, when she pulled too hard, felt like she was falling. His arms were locked around her, his head resting on top of hers, and he allowed her the space to let it all out. It took her a while, until she was lifting her head, checking if she could bare its weight on her own. She could. She sighed, wiped her face, wincing when she brushed against the cuts.

" Better?" Stiles asked, kind and caring and so fucking reassuring, she couldn't help but nod. Her eyes fell onto his busted knuckles, following them to the slight traces of blood on his white shirt, and the scratches starting beneath his eyes, continuing across the length of his face. She groaned breathlessly.

" This is why I didn't want you involved. I told you he was going to hurt you."

" Also why I said I would go, and not you, for the record. In case, that's still a legitimate mystery to you." Derek was standing ahead, his arms crossed against his chest, the jacket to his suit disregarded.

" I'm fine." Stiles was trying to stand, but Derek put a firm hand to his chest, pushing him back into the couch.

" I'm going to get the first aid kit. They all just got here, Scott and Isaac are packing Kyle's belongings. Malia is keeping an eye on him. Kira is probably in one of the bathrooms by now." Stiles nodded, resting back, tired in a way he hadn't been in a long time. Derek came back, crouched to his knees, silently taking Stiles' hand, to wipe the dried blood away.

" I- I'm sorry, Stiles." Stiles squinted a single eye opened at the sound of Lydia's voice, so small, so ashamed.

" What can you possibly be apologizing for?"

" I should have ended it before it ever got this bad. I- I know that. I know that abusive relationships are always just that, but I just, I felt so.. pathetic. So weak. And I'm not, you know I'm not,"

" I know, Lydia. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. That scumbag doesn't change that."

" I always heard of abusive homes. Used to see some of the signs on mum, after dad left. And I always told her, that it was unrealistic to think that anything would change. That- that it's a disgrace to all women out there, to not know your worth, to actually accept this as something you deserve."

" Lydia," Stiles said, horrified. He moved into a more upright situation, leaving his hand in Derek's, like it belonged there.

" But I didn't. I didn't do anything to, to provoke this, or,"

" Hey, okay, stop. Stop talking. He's an abusive piece of shit, who doesn't deserve to be anywhere near you. He doesn't deserve you, and you, you definitely didn't deserve this. None of it. It's not your fault, okay? It's not." Lydia still looked like a beaten down version of herself, and Stiles hated it. Hated Kyle.

" What even was that you sprayed him with?" Stiles tried to coax a smile out of her. It didn't quite work.

" Something I mixed up, it's supposed to be about 12 times worse than normal pepper spray. I guess, we'll find out if that's true." She shrugged, and Stiles snorted, shaking his head, because his friend was so fucking brilliant, it was kind of ridiculous really. She looked like she was wanted to smile, but her features were too rusty, too sore, to form into a proper smile.

" When I, when the thing with Gerard happened," Alert crossed Derek's features, his hands unintentionally tightening around Stiles. It was the first time Stiles had ever talked about that night.

" I was kind of embarrassed too. It made me feel like, like I was so out of control. Like I couldn't pin point a single thing about myself, or my life, or any of it. Everything felt hazy and loopy and just.. weird. And that fear? That fear was amplified, constant. Because that night, when he, when it started, I kind of thought I was going to die. It was probably not that big of a deal, and I was dramatizing it, because of the whole kidnapping and torture aspect, but still. It felt like I was never going to leave that place. And dad would have to find my body, dumped somewhere, and, Gerard would just kill everybody." Stiles shrugged, defeat resting everywhere that Gerard had once touched, had marked.

" Stiles," Derek whined, wanting it to stop. Wanting Stiles to stop sounding so hurt, to stop looking so haunted, so far away. Stiles smiled down at him, patted the hand that was holding his.

" But he is the one who kidnapped some kid and beat him up to send his friends a message or a threat, or something. I don't even know, but it was fucked up, because **_he_** 's fucked up, not me. And yeah, sometimes, it's hard not to flinch when somebody touches you, and it's hard when it's that time of the year again and you can almost hear his voice, over and over. That part sucks, but it doesn't last. Because we have people with us and around us, Lydia. And you have me, okay? Whatever you need."

" Thank you. I love you." She was wrapping her arms around him, putting his face into her shoulders, muffling the sound of his laughter. It was so odd to think about how in love he thought he was with her, how ten year old Stiles, would be losing his **_shit_** , over Lydia confessing her love to him. But he knew she meant it as a family, sister-brother kind of love. It was the only way he saw her now anyway. He stopped seeing her as anything else, anything more, when he started seeing Derek. And it hit him, that _oh, that wasn't love at all, because this is it_. There was so much of it between him and Derek, he wondered how there was any left for the rest of the world.

" Guys,"

" Lydia, what the fuck are you wearing? Like, why?"

" It's a xanthous, custom-made gown, thank you very much."

" Xan- what now?"

" Color-blind, ignorant, fashion-less jerk, and you're,"

" Guys!"

" What? What, Kira? Lydia is in the middle of a very crucial debate about her puke-colored dress. It's **_very_** important."

" My water just broke."  

Stiles and Lydia were staring at her over the back of the couch. Derek's head poking through between theirs. Malia was standing in the middle of the living room, and Scott was standing in the middle of the staircase, with another one of Kyle's bags. No one was moving, until she screamed, almost crumbled to her knees, and everything went to **_shit_**.

Scott left the bag in the middle of the stairs, so Isaac tripped over it, stumbling his way down the rest of them, landing in a heap of limbs and bags. Stiles threw himself over the couch, Derek and Lydia moving around it –like anyone with an actual train of thought would- as they helped collect all the things they would need for the ride. Malia started calling Melissa to meet them at the hospital since she was a chaperon at that reunion –which went out the window a long time ago, lets be real-.

Scott had one of Kira's legs, Malia had the other, while Derek handled her top half, as they carried her out of the house, and into Scott's car –since it was his baby coming so technically his car should bear the consequences-. Derek was driving, Isaac beside him, Scott and Stiles in the backseat, with Kira kind of spread across them, but also, mostly, laying in between. Lydia was going to drive Derek's car, and Malia was going with her, since Derek wouldn't let Malia drive his car, over his dead body, she was the most spontaneous, unfocused, short-fused person he'd ever met, which- true.

" Scott, do something, didn't you go to med school?"

" I'm a vet, Stiles."

" So, what? It's probably still the same process."

" I can't deliver a fucking baby, what do you mean?"

" It's a baby of an alpha and a kitsune, how human can it **_be_**?"

" Are you making dog jokes, right now?"

" I'm sorry, okay, I'm panicking and humor is my safety blanket!"

" If you call that humorous."

" I hate you, I hate you so much, I want a divorce, oh fuck!" Kira yelled out, overwhelmed by another contraction.

" What?" Scott looked genuinely horrified, staring down at his wife, like he was going to have to lose her.

" Those are the contractions talking, she doesn't mean it, Scott. Okay, we're here." Derek said, barely stopping the car, before everyone was scrambling out of it, carrying Kira and running into the hospital, where Melissa and the sheriff were waiting, barely changed out of their evening attire. Lydia and Malia were there probably two minutes after Melissa had asked about how frequent and painful the contractions were, and if she was showing any abnormal symptoms which, they didn't even know what the normal symptoms were, how were they expected to know what was abnormal? What did she **_want_** from them?

Then, Kira was wheeled away, holding Scott by the ear, and dragging him all the way into the delivery room. They were all standing in the middle of the waiting room, looking between each other at the bloody dresses and torn shirts and how they looked like they were out of an elephant's cage, and the elephant had taken a shit, stepped into it, and pressed them into the ground, giving Lydia some kind of special-pressing-services which was probably the only thing that could describe the **_hideous_** color of her dress. But yeah, clearly the elephant won, all rounds.

" So, dad, how was the reunion? Had fun?" The sheriff was blinking, once, twice, before laughter was pouring out of him, his entire figure shaking with it. They all followed, including Lydia, who wiped a bloody hand against her dress, figured, it was already ruined anyway. Stiles laughed and laughed, until his body kind of leaned into the curve of Derek's side, who swung his arm over Stiles' chest, let it rest there, his chest shaking with laughter, tickling Stiles' back a little. But then, Isaac was standing beside him, and Stiles tried to untangle himself from Derek, to give them some space, but Derek held on tighter, his grip fearful and hesitant, and Stiles eased back against his chest, but turned his head away, to at least give them the illusion of privacy. Isaac didn't need much persuasion, he took Derek's apologies, the raw honesty in his eyes, the regret drowning his voice out, and he nodded, smiled reassuringly, and didn't stray too far away for the rest of the night. He touched more comfortably, spoke more loosely, and every time, Derek looked at Stiles with the most joyous grin he'd ever seen. 

" Oh, Lydia, sweetheart, Melissa left a change of clothes if anyone needs it, it's in the break room, I think. Your dress took quite the beating, I don't know if dry-cleaning can savor that."

And then the laughing grew so loud, so intense, it kind of ached, but it was the most delicious ache any of them had ever felt. It felt like they were floating, like they were light and free and so close to happiness, it left a taste at the back of their throats, as if to remind them, of how sweet it could all be. Then, Scott came out, looking like he was crying, and said that they had a girl. Everyone was embracing and laughing and crying and then Scott told Stiles that he would be the godfather, and Lydia the godmother. And it was more crying and embracing than laughing but it was still, so, so sweet.

The embracing cycle took Stiles to Derek, just as Scott released him, and Derek immediately surrounded him, sagging with relief, like he'd been itching, to finally hold onto him. Stiles' head was buried in his chest, his arms barely closing the circle around his waist, and then, he heard it. Whispered and careful and boggling all the same.  

" God, I love you." And that. That was the sweetest of all, it almost left Stiles with a toothache.

" I love you too." And they didn't let go, until they had to move to Kira's room, where they started yelling out names, skipping Lydia for the first few times because _a person that calls yellow xanthous has no place calling a baby with a name it'll have for the rest of its life_ , which was kind of a fair point. Stiles gave up after the third or so round, falling onto the couch with Derek, almost into his lap, but also, kind of beside him. As naturally as it came for him, Derek put his arm around him, tucked him in, planted a kiss into his hair, and breathed him in. Even his scent had a layered sweetness to it. He figured, if love smelled like anything, it'd probably smell of this. Of them.


End file.
